


Nightmares

by CadaveriaRagnarsson



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Carecrow, Domestic Fluff, Hot Chocolate, Implied Slash, M/M, One Shot, Scriddler, Translation, riddlecrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:10:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7822651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CadaveriaRagnarsson/pseuds/CadaveriaRagnarsson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"JonNny-bOy cOulDn’T dO aNytHing..." He took Edward’s hand and crossed his fingers with his in a gesture that seemed to be too intimate even for both of them.<br/>However he allowed him to.<br/>"... buT he woUld nEveR fOrgiVe hiMseLf."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya~  
> This is my first attempt in publishing something on AO3...  
> I dramatically fell in this fandom and this ship is slowly killing me from the inside but- _i mean_ i fell in love with this ship and tried my best to join the fandom...  
>  English is not my main language, but please feel free to read and comment.  
> I would love it.

Edward woke with a start that night, still with the horrible feeling of that man’s hands over his body.  
  
The nightmare had been so horrible and vivid that he almost had the feeling of being back to when he was nothing more than a child, fragile and delicate, so easily broken under the violent hits of a father who had no respect for him.  
  
Still breathless, Edward ran a hand through his hair, trying to rationalize and resume contact with reality.  
The place beside him was empty, a sign that Jonathan must have been raised for some reason or, _more likely_ , had not come to bed yet.  
  
He decided to get up as well, more sure than ever of not wanting to try to sleep again anytime soon, after that nightmare.  
  
It was common for him to relive those moments of the past.  
  
Some times it happened, but each time he seemed not to be strong enough to face them; every time he felt like the ten years old child that used to hide in terror under the bed, whenever he heard his father coming home.  
  
He remembered the pain of the beatings, the fear, the confusion for failing to understand why his mother was gone and had left him.  
  
He closed his eyes to chase away those thoughts, continuing into the hall and finially reaching the kitchen.  
The light was on.  
  
"Jon?" He called softly, surprised.  
  
If someone would have asked, he would have bet any amount of money on the presence of Jonathan still in the laboratory, intent on working in inhuman rhythms to the production of his toxin. Finding him standing in the kitchen, only dressed in the black trousers of the suit he used at home, tinkering with the stove, was surprising.  
  
The man did not turn around, still facing the stove and attempting to turn, with a long spoon, the saucepan’s content. The air was filled with its unique fragrance.  
  
"Are you preparing some chocolate?" Edward asked confused, frowning.  
  
At the same instant Jonathan switched off the stove, turning to the boy beside him, swaying slightly on the spot before leaning side with the shelf.  
  
"foR yOu. siT dOwN. " He told him, scratching with his throat those few syllables, nodding at the chair that Edward was used to occupy at the table.  
  
Edward, still confused, did not dispute his boyfriend’s words, doing as requested and sitting at the table.  
Soon the contents of the pot was poured into a cup, _his green cup_ , and this was laid before him, as proof that that hot chocolate was indeed for him.  
  
The dirty dishes ended up in the sink and Jonathan sat at the table, clutching now a lit cigarette between his lips: occasional habit that Edward had only recently discovered in him, but that had never created him any problem.  
  
Edward drew his lips to the cup, careful in not burning himself, and then took a sip of that chocolate.  
The temperature was perfect and the taste was good; although it definitely wasn’t the best chocolate he had ever drunk, he appreciated the effort that Jonathan putted in preparing it, well aware that the man didn’t love to cook even for himself.  
  
"Thanks ..." he said, still unable to smile despite the care the other man showed.  
Crane, in front of him, inhaled deeply on his cigarette, then bowed his head and wearily rested it against his wrist.

"How did you...?" Edward tried to ask him, without really finish the question.  
  
The doctor let his head slip down the arm that was supporting him, stopping just before hitting the table.  
He looked tired, but he managed anyway to pull up his head and to look at the other in the face.  
  
There was something wrong with Jonathan, something that were corrupting his voice and movements, making them slower. He seemed to have difficulty even in staying still in his sit and, by the way his head lolled from side to side, seemed about to collapse.  
  
" _yOu woKe uS up..._ " he whispered, looking wearily, then pulling up unexpectedly, almost suddenly and only to take another drag from his cigarette.  
Edward remained silent, finally realize that the one in front of him was not Jonathan, but-  
  
"Scarecrow?"  
  
The man smiled in a sick way, tilting his head to the left, amused and pleased by the fear that he could read into the green eyes of Edward.  
  
"YoU wEre tAlkiNg iN yoUr slEep, yOu'vE woKen Us uP ..." he repeated, scratching one word after another.  
" _Dad ...nO..._ " he laughed mildly after poorly trying to imitate Edward’s voice, who now was staring at him, made uncomfortable by his presence and even more by the fact that he knew.  
  
"dRiNk." He said again, pointing with his thin pale fingers to the cup.  
  
"wE kNow iT hElpS yoU cAlm doWn ..." the words were slurred, spoken with a slow and unsettling cadence that, despite the desire to reassure him, they were beginning to produce the opposite effect.  
  
Edward tightened his grip on the cup enough to warm his fingers, thoughtful, troubled by the thought that the one before him was Scarecrow and he was trying to take care of him.  
He spoke in plural, involving Jonathan in his own person, but this did not explain why he was in control.  
  
"Jonathan?" He finally asked, watching him in those big blue eyes now with thinned pupils.  
  
"... sleEpiNg ..." Scarecrow took another drag of smoke; the tone made persuasive as he spoke about Jon.  
"... aCcidEnt ..." he said again, taking out the cigarette not yet finished and squeezing it between two fingers, heedless of the possibility of burn himself and without showing any reaction to the gesture.  
  
"Is h- _are you ok?_ " Edward asked apprehensive, now taking a sip of chocolate and searching comfort in it.

"We iNhaLed a sOlvEnt ... joNny-bOy hAs coLlaPsed ..."  
He appeared having difficult even speaking, but that wasn’t stopping him from trying to.  
  
"...whEn we Came To bEd tO slePp ... yoU wEre moAniNg ..." he murmured tired, reaching for Edward’s fingers still on the cup.  
  
"JoNny-bOy cOulDn’T dO aNytHing ..." He took Edward’s hand and crossed his fingers with his in a gesture that seemed to be too intimate even for both of them. However he allowed him to.  
  
" _... buT he woUld nEveR fOrgiVe hiMseLf._ "  
  
He gave him a knowing glance, losing himself in his big emerald eyes, even if only for a moment.  
Edward just tightened his grip on the partner's hand, caressing his thumb slowly, with affection.  
  
He drank his chocolate slowly savoring every sip of it, lost in a thousand thoughts, while the head of the other man lolled from side to side wearily.  
The grip on his hand was weaker, now.  
It was the first time he had a non-violent confrontation with Scarecrow, yet watching him in that moment, almost on the verge of collapse, the resentment of the past seemed forgotten.  
Finding out that Crane remembered that the hot chocolate was his first choice when he was nervous, was a great surprise as much as discover that was Scarecrow the one preparing it, waiting for him in the kitchen where he knew he would go after having a nightmare.  
  
_Waiting for him, despite he could barely stand up._  
  
He finished his chocolate and rose up, reluctantly extricating his own hand from the grip of the other one, in order to place the cup in the sink and fill it with water.  
  
Scarecrow followed him with his eyes, tired and about to collapse, at least satisfied in being able to do something for him, as Jon wanted. Edward returned his gaze with a smile, the first since he had awakened prey of his own nightmares.  
  
_The first he had ever directed to him and not to Jonathan._  
  
"Come. Let's go to bed. " He told him, doing his best to help him getting up from his chair, now more than ever close to get lost.  
  
He offered him his arm in support, ending up in staggering backward and leaning against the shelf behind him when Scarecrow had gone against him to capture his lips in a kiss.  
Edward did not withdraw from his delicate gesture, returning it with affection and gratitude for taking care of him when he had not even the strength to do it for himself.  
  
He held him in his arms to feel him closer and eventually support him, reassured for the first time by the very touch of his hands on his own shoulders.  
  
Neither of them wanted to stop tht contact anytime soon.  
In a way it was still Jonathan, but in the very sense it was the side of him, pitiless and out of control, that seemed to have finally accepted Edward in their life.  
  


" _Jonny-bOy cOulDn’T dO aNytHing..._ "  
" _... buT he woUld nEveR fOrgiVe hiMseLf._ "

  
  
Scarecrow was the first to part from that kiss, ending with placing his forehead against the other’s in the vague attempt to stand up. The grip of his fingers on Edward’s shoulders intensified as well as the boy’s hold around his torso.  
  
"I won’t let you fall."  
  
Nygma told him, ready to support his weight and to guide him, albeit unsteadily, out of the kitchen and down the hall to their bedroom.  
  
Laying him down was easy...  
The complicated part was falling asleep again, now hold tight in Scarecrow’s arms who refused to let him go for nothing in the world.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading,  
> Cadaveria


End file.
